56:  You’re Coming Home With Me

                  “Hey, pops,” Brian greeted his father as he walked in on Jack playing poker inside his favorite sports bar.  “You asked to see me tonight.”

“Yeah son.”

“How’s it going, pops?”

“I’ve seen better days, Brian.  I’ve definitely seen better hands.  That’s it for me, boys; I’m out,” Jack Kinney said as he folded his cards tossed them over and then he got up from the poker table and rested one hand on Brian’s shoulder and led him to the bar.

“Charlie!  You know my boy, Brian.  And, Two of your best scotches; and Sonny Boy’s paying.”

Brian and Jack then sat down at the bar together.  And, Jack looked at his son in his business attire.  “Hey, that’s a first, Brian, helluva fancy and expensive business suit you’re wearing.”

“What?”

“You coming down here in business clothes like that.  What are you trying to do show off us common folks?”

“Oh, I came straight here from work, pops.”

“Oh.  You’ve been ignoring a lot of my calls lately, Brian.  Why?  Been busy with that fancy big-shot job of yours, son?  Too busy to even keep in touch with your family?  Been hard to get in touch with you over the last two weeks.”

“I was on my honeymoon, dad.  You knew that.”

“Honeymoon?”  Jack sighed and eyeballed his son strangely.  “Hmm…” he asked callously, “… Umm… do they still call it that when a gay couple does it too?”

“Yeah, dad.  Everything has the same name.”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure if it did.  I thought they might call it something different in those folks case.”

“No, pops.   They don’t change the names or anything.  A wedding is still called a wedding… a ring is a ring… engagement is an engagement… and a honeymoon is definitely still called a honeymoon… they don’t change the names any.”

“Something though… really ironic isn’t it?”

“What’s that, pops?”

“I tried to instill something in you when you was younger.  I used to say, Sonny boy, don’t be like your old man.  You and I weren’t meant to settle down.  So, don’t ever let any woman get her hooks into you and cause you to settle down!  Well, I can’t say you weren’t definitely listening to me… can I?   No one can accuse you of NOT taking my advice, Sonny Boy.  You definitely didn’t let any WOMAN settle you down.”

“Life is strange like that, I supposed, pops.”

“I just don’t get it, Brian.  Why would any man want to lie down with another man?  I can see two women doing it though.   Get a load of those jugglers knocking together, huh,” Jack playfully poked Brian in the ribs but Brian kept a straight face.  Nothing seemed the least bit humorous to him.  “But what gay men do  – I just can’t get my head around that.  No matter how much I try.  And, it’s not something a parent can beat out of their child.  Is it?”

“I guess not, Dad.  Many parents have tried though,” Brian shrugged his shoulders and tried to appear like that comment didn’t upset him as much as it did.  “But how’s mom, dad?”

“The Warden’s just fine.  But, Sonny Boy, I’ve come up a little short this month.”

Brian then reached inside his pocket and got out an envelope full of money and slid it over the bar to his father.  Jack picked it up, looked inside and counted the cash, and he was quite pleased with his son’s generosity. 

“Good man, Brian.  Good man, Sonny Boy.  Good man.”  He patted Brian on the shoulder and patronizingly praised his son; and Brian had difficulty holding back the tears just then.  “Sonny Boy.  I want you to know.  I’m keeping a strict account of every penny you’ve ever given me.   And, one of these days, you’ll see, I’m going to pay you back every red cent.”

“Sure, pops!  But dad, maybe I ought to leave now.”  Brian just wanted to run out of there right that instant and go home to his husband while he was still in pretty good shape to do so.

“No, Brian.  Stay put, son.  Stay and have a drink with you old man.  Relax, Sonny Boy.”  Jack patted him on the thigh and Brian remained seated.  “Charlie, two more,” he motioned the bartender again.

And he kept the drinks coming and Brian and he drank one after the other; and Jack continued to speak condescending to his son.  At some point he hinted to Brian that he wished that he had never had any kids.  Brian took that to mean that his father was sorry that he was ever born.  And, that hurt Brian immensely inside and the drinking only added to his depression. 

“Sonny Boy,” Jack tapped Brian on the shoulder again after it had gotten terribly late – almost midnight.  “I have to go pee.  Be right back.  Don’t rush off and go anywhere though.”

“Go pee, pops!  And, I won’t go anywhere.  I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“Good, Sonny Boy, good,” Jack slapped Brian on the back and then he went to the men’s room.

Brian then instinctively searched for his phone.  But was quickly reminded though that it wasn’t on him but he wanted to call his spouse.  “Charlie, is there a phone I can use?”

“Pay phones are right over there near the pool tables, Mr. Kinney.”  He pointed Brian in the right direction.

“Thanks,” Brian hopped up from the stool and went over to the payphones, dialed home and Justin answered.

“Brian, is that you?  It’s gotten quite late.  It’s almost midnight.  Are you on your way home now?”

“No, Justin.  I was only calling to let you know that most likely I’m going to do an all nighter with my father.  I’ll see you some time in the morning.”  And, Brian fought immensely to keep the grogginess out of his voice; he didn’t want Justin to know that he was hurting so badly and on the verge of breaking down. 

Mostly, Brian wanted to go somewhere and ball up like a knot and sob his eyes out – but not anyplace where his husband could see him in such a weakling state.  So, he already made up his mind that he wasn’t going home that night.

“Oh?” Justin moaned hating the thought that Brian and he wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed that night.  It will be the first time they slept apart since their engagement.  “Okay, Brian?  I’ll see you in the morning then.  Bye… I love you.”

“Thanks, Justin… same to you.  Bye.”

Brian then returned to the bar and by that time his father was back from the men’s room.

“Two more refills, Charlie,” Jack ordered another round.  And, Brian lost count of how many that’s been.  But he knew he had more than enough (he could hardly stand up straight).

“Pops, I have to go.”

“Hey, sonny boy.  Stick around… the night’s still young.”

“Sorry, pops,” Brian started literally stepping backwards on his heels because he knew in another moment he will be weeping like a baby and he didn’t want his father or anyone in that public place seeing him do that.

“Bye, pops.  Gotta go,” Brian swiftly turned around and rushed for the exit.

“Briannnn!  Sonny-Boy!” Jack piteously called behind his son trying to lure him back to the bar, but Brian kept fast stepping. 

When Brian got outside, he knew he was too stone to drive, so he just stood outside Jack’s favorite bar and leaned up against building and took out a cigarette, lit it and started dragging on it.   After putting away three cigarettes like that he felt good enough to start walking but not to drive.

So, Brian abandoned his car where he had parked it earlier, and he started staggering along.  Where he was headed – he didn’t know.  All he knew was that he couldn’t go home though – not while battling tears which no matter how much he fought with them they would beat him down, get the best of him and kept on violently streaming down his face.  He surely couldn’t go home to his husband in that state.  And, he kept thinking how in the olden days he used to go to Michael’s.  That was the place he was most comfortable going to after spending a stretch with his father.  And, the thought that he couldn’t go there anymore only made him cry more.

Brian continued walking.  His long legs led him about five blocks in the west direction but that was not the path that would lead him home to his husband.  He saw a cab inching along and Brian hurried up to it.  The cab stopped and Brian got inside the back seat. 

“What the fuck!”  The cab driver looked back at Brian and exclaimed as he put the cab back in motion.  “What are the odds?”

“Shit!  Harry!”  Brian was highly embarrassed for him to see him that way too.  He almost wanted to get out of the cab and go find another one but Harold was already driving inside traffic so Brian sat back and stared down at the floor.

“Hey!  Brian!  I saw your face!  I already know that you’re all drunk and fucked up.  Why are you trying to hide it from me?  How many times have you seen me in tears?  Do you think I’m going to judge you?  What happened to you?  Did you and the…” He paused and then continued where he left off, “The… you know… the hubby have a fall out or something?”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t judge me!  Still a homophobic bastard aren’t you, Harold?”

“I’m no homophobe, Brian.  It’s just that…”

“Just what, Harold?  When we were growing up I recalled you being even worst to me than Jack.”

“No one treated you worse than your father did, Brian.  He used to try to beat it out of you when he learned you were…” Harold paused in mid sentence.  “That’s it… isn’t?  That’s where you’re coming from now… right?  You saw your father tonight.  Sure you did.  Your father’s favorite bar is only about four or five blocks from here.  So, where to, Brian?  You want me to take you home to your… umm…”

“Say it, Harold – my husband.”

“Yeah, Brian.  Do you want me to take you home to your husband Justin?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just not ready to go there right yet.”

“Why because you can’t let him see you like this?  Why not?”

“That’s weird to you, huh, Harold?  But, if I had a wife it wouldn’t be so weird to you.  But you can’t understand… or should I say you can’t get your head around why is it that one faggot wouldn’t want another faggot seeing him cry.  You probably think, like all breeders think, that is, that all faggots do is cry all over each other like a couple of emotional fucking sappy ass lesbians.   But gay men aren’t lesbians, Harold.  And, guess what?  This might come as an absolute shock to you.  But… when gays cry, Harold, they don’t call it something else.”

“Huh?  What is that supposed to mean, Brian?”

“It means that you don’t think any differently from my pops.  Yeah, you definitely should have been Jack’s offspring instead of me.  You’re just like him, Harold.  You even look like him more than I do.  So, you’re the one who should have been the one he knocked up Joanie with instead of me.”

“Hmm, wasn’t it Claire your father knocked your mother up with, Brian?  Isn’t your sister older than you?  I think they only call it knocked up when the couple isn’t married.”

“Who the fuck cares what you breeders call anything!  They got a name for everything… especially anything that’s different, or they just don’t like or understand.”

“Stop it, Brian.  I think I might have finally gotten over my issues with gays… at least I’m trying really hard to.  You might not believe how far I’ve come.  I’ve gotten to know you and…”

“No, Harold.  You don’t know me or love me; probably don’t even like me.  You certainly didn’t when we were kids.  I recall you acting like you actually hated me.  When your parents brought you around, you would play with my sister Claire but never with me though.  What were you afraid of Harold?  Afraid I would turn you gay?  But tell me something, Harold; you seemed to know I was gay even before I or anyone else did.  You knew before anyone.  Why was that?”

“Where to, Brian?”

“Are you avoiding the question for some reason, Harold?  Why?  Again, what do you have to be so afraid of?  And, how well do you think you know me now, Harry, or like me even?”  Then Brian paused for Harold to answer; but he said nothing.  “Well, I tell you what you DO know as well as LOVE about me, Harold.   And, it’s the same thing everybody else knows and loves about Brian Taylor-Kinney.  Harold, you’ve gotten to know and love MY MONEY!”

“That’s not true, Brian.   Brian!”

“What?”

“Where can I take you?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Want me to take you to your son Gus two mommies’ house?”

“No!  I don’t want to go there either.”

“How about that guy named Michael Novotny?  Do you still keep in touch with him?  Where does he live?  Would you like me to take you to his place?”

“Fuck no!”  Brian spat (although Michael’s place was where he wanted to go to the most).  “I definitely don’t want to go there either!”  He lied.

“Where then?”

“Ummm… ummm… I guess you can take me to… why don’t you just stop the cab and put me out here, Harold,” Brian seemed unable to make up his drunken mind.  “And, I’ll just walk back to my car and drive myself to wherever.”

“Brian, you’re too drunk to drive.  As well, as it’s a long walk back to your car from here.”

“Good.  By the time I walk back there I’d be sobered up and would be good to drive.  So, stop this jalopy and let me out, Harold?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dark out and the middle of the fucking night.  And, obviously you have no place to go.  Something could happen to you.”

“Like you would even care.  But you would care… wouldn’t you?  Because if I was killed then my money would die with me; and then you wouldn’t be able to get your slimy greedy hands on anymore of it.  You don’t love me any… you only love my money.  You’re no different from the rest of them!  Would you like me to write you another check, Harold, right here and now?”

“I DO love you, Brian.  Therefore, I just can’t put you out of my cab and let you sleep, all night, on the street.  So, I’m taking you home with me.”

*

“Hello?  Who the hell is this?”

“Mr. Kinney?  It’s me, Justin.  Sorry to disturb you at such a late hour like this but… and I hope I didn’t wake you… but…”

“Who?”  Jack growled.

“Justin Taylor… Brian’s Justin.  I was trying to reach your son but I knew he didn’t have his cell on him.  However, I know he’s with you.  Can I speak with him, please?”

“Brian isn’t here.”

“Huh?  What you mean Brian’s not with you?”

“He’s not with me, Justin.”

“Oh?  He was with you earlier though… right?  Did he just leave you or something?”

“Umm… let’s me see what time is it,” Jack groggily grunted.

“It’s 3 a.m., Mr. Kinney,” Justin told him.

“Brian left me around about midnight.  Bye.”  Jack then abruptly slammed the phone down.

“Midnight?”  Justin mumbled to himself as he put his cell down on the nightstand near the bed.  “And, now it’s 3.  Where’s my husband?  Fuck!  He’s with Harry!  I just know it!  Where else would he be?”